


Love That Lasts

by Wind_Writes



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Love, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Prompt Fic, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Romance, Sex, Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:48:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29334060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wind_Writes/pseuds/Wind_Writes
Summary: No matter how much time apart there is between them, they always will come back together.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 9
Kudos: 26
Collections: A Very Yenralt Valentine





	Love That Lasts

He was tired, mind and body. His muscles ached as they continued to heal and Geralt found himself rather despondent when it came to the idea of moving on from Kaer Morhen. He had come here simply to recover, but as his wounds mended, Geralt seemed less inclined to leave.

The situation on the continent continued to darken. The body count was rising and alliances were fraying each way they turned. War was inevitable, sides had to be picked and Geralt didn’t have the energy to face what the future held.

The smell of lilac and gooseberry pulled him from the depths of his own mind and he searched frantically around the hall for the culprit. There was no one, of course, and Geralt took a deep pull of ale to chase away the skip in his heart. His mind needed a rest if it was resorting to phantom smells.

A round of rowdy laughter brought his attention back on the group that had gathered for a late meal and drink. The men were arguing about the best ways to kill beasts and Lambert and Eskel had taken it upon themselves, in a flurry of drunken displays, to demonstrate just how to do it.

Bored with the antics of his friends, Geralt finished off the last of his ale and left the hall without as much as a goodnight to the men still gathered. A round of calls and insults followed him through the door and Geralt just waved them off, uninterested in what other helpful tactics were going to be shared or in the hangover he knew he’d be cursed with if he stayed any longer.

Though he appreciated the company and enjoyed having others within the walls of the fort, Geralt found himself in need of some peace and quiet this late in the evening.

As he climbed the stairs, the lingering scent of lilac and gooseberry followed him and it only confirmed how exhausted he truly was. Geralt hadn’t heard a word from Yennefer in ages, the silence and lack of letters from her as irritating as his mending injuries, and now he could only hope a full night's sleep would chase away the lingering memories her perfume brought on and stop the game his mind seemed to want to play.

Dreaming only of a soft mattress the blissful darkness sleep would offer, Geralt stopped short as he let himself into his room, the site at his desk stopping his heart for a moment.

“I was wondering where you were.” Glancing up from the book, Yennefer smiled when she saw Geralt hesitate in the doorway, his amber gaze filled with surprise to find her so at home amongst his things.

Regaining his composure, Geralt did his best to smooth his features to mute indifference despite the fact his heart beat heavy in his chest. “Yennefer.”

When he had first caught the scent of her perfume in the main hall, Geralt had assumed his mind was playing tricks on him, longing for a woman who he hadn’t seen in ages, but now it was apparent that he hadn’t been imagining anything at all. He could feel her watchful gaze on him as he closed and locked his chamber door, the sound of his boots scraping against the stone as he stepped to his bed and the subtle tap of Yennefer’s nail on the arm of the chair the only sounds in the room.

“It’s been a while, Geralt.” Smile as coy as ever, Yennefer watched him from across the room as she shut the book with a final snap and set it on the desk beside her. Though he didn’t appear angry at the site of her he was, at best, unnerved by it. “How’ve you been.”

Geralt merely gave Yennefer a grunt as he slowly lowered himself to sit on the bed, doing his level best not to draw notice to the injuries that still bothered him more than he’d like to admit.

“That good, huh?”

Keen eyes missing very little, especially when it came to him, Geralt knew Yennefer saw the stiff movements as he kicked off his boots and it was hard to ignore the way she frowned as he winced when he turned a little too quickly one way or the other. Injuries were a fact of life for a man in his line of work, and despite the fact that Yennefer knew that, it hadn’t seemed to harden her.

It was hard for him to ignore the feel of her eyes on him; he knew she heard every hitch in his breath and saw the way the muscles in his jaw jumped when a wave of discomfort hit, but it didn’t stop him from trying to hide it. The idea of letting Yennefer see him in this state after all this time apart left a sour taste in Geralt’s mouth, he wasn’t ready to let himself appear as vulnerable as he truly was.

Elbows propped on his knees, he watched the mage as she pushed out of the chair and wandered about the room, her fingers dancing across the dusty shelves and toying with whatever she came across. 

“Looks like time has been good to you,” he mentioned casually, taking the time to appreciate all that stood in front of him. “Haven’t changed a bit.”

Yennefer glanced at him over her shoulder, brow arched as if she was insulted that he would have expected anything differently, but the warmth in her gaze gave her true feelings away.

“You’ve been busy it seems,” she said, fingers toying with a glass bauble Geralt had stashed on a shelf amongst dust covered books.

The corners of his lips quirked at the idea of Yennefer keeping tabs on his whereabouts despite their time apart. “Spying on me?”

“Wouldn’t have to if you were better about writing to me,” she chided, irritation easily detected. Placing the useless knick knack back where she’d found it, Yennefer gave him a withering look as she moved soundlessly to stand in front of a fire Geralt had no recollection of building.

He felt like a scolded child and whatever good humor he’d felt slipped away. Though Geralt got a certain enjoyment from letter writing, the last few communications he had with Yennefer had been more disastrous than anything and he’d thought it best to halt letters for a while. Obviously, his decision had not been well received.

Resigned, he gave a heavy sigh and peered over at the lone woman. “What are you doing here, Yen.”

She gave him a passive shrug of her shoulders and continued to study the flames that danced in the hearth, her back still to him. “I was bored. Thought I’d pay you a visit.”

“Between kings at the moment, then?” He questioned, his tone sounding bitter in his ears. “No village to liberate from boredom?”

The subtle straightening of her back and the way she shifted from one foot to another told Geralt he’d hit a nerve. He hadn’t meant to come off as such a prick, but when it came to Yennefer his brain and his mouth constantly struggled to connect, the result often being him stuffing a foot in his mouth.

“Not at the moment,” she said and gave him a dark, almost taunting, smile. “I’m on a break.”

A shadow of doubt crept its way through the deepest part of his heart, a heavy weight settling in his stomach. It was no secret that Yennefer had a vindictive side to her, and though she rarely turned it on him, Geralt was not past believing that she had come here not out of concern but out of spite. 

“That the only reason for your visit? Nothing better to do?”

“I need a reason to visit?” Her tone was harsh and temper flared in her violet eyes when she turned her attention on the Witcher.

Geralt lifted his hands up in resignation. Though he was sure it would result in some fantastic hate sex, he didn’t have the energy to fight with her. “I’d like to think something outside of boredom made you come.”

He could see Yennefer’s temper wane at his words, her eyes locking with his for a moment. The usual fire that lingered there when she was ready to fight dissipated and he could see in her posture that she didn’t have an argument brewing. Stepping away from the warmth of the fire, Yennefer crossed the room to stand in front of Geralt, her hand reaching out, after a moment of hesitation, to run through his white locks.

“There was word that you took quite the beating not too long ago.”

Images of blood and beast flickered through Geralt’s mind. He had underestimated the creature and it had cost him dearly. A Witcher’s death was inevitable, and for a heartbeat or two, Geralt was sure he was destined to fight his last fight.

“Is that why you returned to Kaer Morhen?” She continued, as if she knew he wasn’t going to admit to getting his ass handed to him.

Though it cost him, Geralt rose to his feet and cupped Yennefer’s cheek in his hand, his thumb ghosting across her bottom lip. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were worried about me.”

“I always worry about you,” she admitted and leaned into his touch.

A smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes flickered across Yennefer’s features as she looked up at Geralt. He knew exhaustion sat plainly in his eyes and that she could feel how his breath caught every now and again. He didn’t win himself any favors when concern clouded her features as he sucked in air through his teeth when she deftly ran her fingers over his ribs. Geralt wanted to kick himself for making her worry.

Collecting her wandering fingers in his, Geralt bumped his nose with hers and inhaled the heady smell of her perfume. It never failed to make his heart trip and beat or two. 

“So why not just say that from start, instead of playing games,” he asked, putting enough space between them so he could make out her features clearly.

Yennefer gave a snort of amusement and tugged her hand free of his grasp to wind them around his neck. Pressing herself snuggly against him, nipping at his bottom lip. “Can’t have you thinking I’ve gone soft.”

“I would never think that,” he teased before closing his lips over hers.

Exhaustion began to recede from his body, the feel of her lips on him after all this time drew heat into his loins and a growl from the feral part of his mind. She met his advance with equal fervor, chasing any lingering idea of sleep from his mind. His kiss was possessive and when his tongue demanded entrance, Yennefer relented. He could hear the racing of his own heartbeat and it took only a moment to zero in on the second racing beat of the woman who was wound around him. She tugged at his bottom lip and Geralt growled again.

He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

First to step away, Yennefer struggled to catch her own breath. “I’ve missed this,” she panted.

“Then why’d you stay away so long,” he murmured against her skin. Taking his time, Geralt trailed butterfly kisses along Yennefer’s neck before finding the sensitive spot just below her ear, where he nipped and smiled when she gave a gasp.

The familiar fog of euphoria that only came when Yennefer was in his arms began to creep into the edges of his mind. He could feel her muscles began to relax, the tension that camped out in her shoulders slowly dissipating and Geralt knew she was struggling to keep her mind on the question he’d asked.

“Responsibilities,” she managed to mutter, though her tone was anything but convincing.

It was a subtle snort from Geralt that gave Yennefer pause and had the tension returning to the muscles that had just been pliant under his attention. 

Angling away from his wandering lips, Yennefer toyed with the ends of his hair and waited for his amber gaze to focus before she spoke. “Not all of us are free to wander about the continent collecting coin as we see fit.”

“Some of us just use portals to get around the continent, instead.”

Geralt cursed himself under his breath as soon as the words passed his lips, afraid to meet the eyes of the woman who had been languid in his grasp only moments ago.

The temper that had been dampened flared bright and Geralt could see color seep into her cheeks. “I can portal out just as easily as I can in,” she spat and stepped defiantly out of his grasp.

“Or you could stay.” Reaching out, Geralt grabbed Yennefer’s wrist and pulled her back so she was settled against him. “See just how injured I am.”

It was silent between them for a moment, Yennefer’s eyes watching. There was no contempt or anger in them, but they didn’t shimmer with happiness either. They were quiet, almost calculating, as if she was taking stock of the man she was nestled against. 

Geralt waited patiently, his hand trailing leisurely from her wrist, up her arm and settling deep within her raven locks, fingers massaging the muscles that bunched at the base of her neck.

Yennefer groaned, her lids fluttering as he continued to work the knots from her neck. He always seemed to know just where to touch to soften her, how to chase away her snapping temper. When it suited him, that was. But he didn’t think she minded, it usually ended up suiting her just fine as well.

“You’ve always had the touch,” she murmured.

Withdrawing his hand, Geralt kissed the corner of her lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he teased.

Lips quirking at the corner, Yennefer gave an amused snort and brought her lips up to meet his, Geralt’s grasp moving to her hips, his hold bruising, as if she would disappear if he let go.

There were gasps and muddled moans as their lips battled and teeth nipped, Yennefer’s hands trailing along the front of his shirt and down to his belt, her fingers deftly working the buckle as Geralt maneuvered her back towards the bed.

A brush of bedsheet against his leg stopped Geralt and Yennefer groaned into his kiss before breaking their contact and trailing her lips down his neck, her hands carefully lifting the hem of his shirt as she explored.

He could feel her hands roam over tenderly healing flesh and she swallowed his gasp when she grazed his ribs. Her fingers danced over fresh scars and bruised bones and Geralt felt a loss of warmth as Yennefer pulled back and freed him of his shirt, tossing it haphazardly behind him as she watched him cautiously.

“Are you sure you’re healed enough?”

Geralt held her gaze as he tossed the belt in the same direction of his shirt before pulling her back to him to claim her lips again, his answer to her question answered in action. His usually skillful fingers stumbled over the buttons on her dress, anxious to see what was hidden beneath. It had been too long since he’d felt her warm flesh beneath him, felt her body tremble around him and having her here now, wanting and willing, sent his heart racing.

“For this I am,” he muttered and with a forceful tug he freed her dress of the last few buttons.

Taking him at his word, Yennefer let her dress fall from her shoulders, body open and welcoming as Geralt nudged her back onto the warmth of the mattress. Sending his pants in the direction of the rest of his clothing, Geralt took time to take in the beauty the lay before him, his lips kissing their way from her navel to her neck as he slowly covered her with himself.

Hands explored over naked flesh, each of them becoming reacquainted with bodies they had long ago memorized. Every crease, every valley of skin was given attention, teeth nipping at the most sensitive of spots as hands roamed over back and down thighs. Yennefer kissed across his collarbone to his neck, her teeth sinking into taught muscles that bunched there and Geralt groaned, his hold on her thighs tightening at his groin muscles contracted. No matter the years they shared, Yennefer wound him up like no other could.

Hold moving from the top of her thighs to the back, Geralt shifted Yennefer against him, his heated flesh rubbing against her wet folds, the sensation pulling a gasp from her. Her hips rose to deepen the pressure, the friction of him against her sending tremors down her legs and Geralt withdrew, not giving her the satisfaction she desperately desired. Yet.

Yennefer’s lids fluttered open, gaze snapping with irritation and a hearty chuckle vibrated through Geralt. After all this time apart, he had no intention of rushing anything. He wanted to savor each moment, feel her trembling beneath him, drive her to the brink of pleasure before letting her fall over the edge. 

Not to be deterred, Geralt slowly kissed his way between her breasts and along her stomach, a hand coming up to tease her nipple. The sensitive flesh strained against his calloused hands and Yennefer gasped when he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, her body’s reaction immediate has Geralt nipped his way down her thigh.

Slowly pushing her thighs apart, Geralt pressed a soft kiss just above the nub of flesh before trailing his tongue along her open slit and back up to circle the most sensitive part of her. Hands trailing from her breasts to her backside, he angled her hips for better access. He nipped and sucked, taking his time to enjoy, till her herd a whimper of pleasure break from the woman above him.

Intertwining a shaking hand in his hair, Yennefer encouraged Geralt to explore, his tongue probing, teasing her body to the point of madness. She shuddered under his attentions, her body writhing against the sheets and perspiration covering her skin. The muscles of her thighs quivered as she pushed her heels into the mattress, her body doing everything within it’s power to reach the explosive end. He was teasing her with every slow, stroking touch, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before she tumbled over the edge.

“Geralt,” Yennefer pleaded as he withdrew his tongue and kissed along her thigh and up her stomach before claiming her lips once more.

He smiled into the kiss as she moved herself against him, her movements frantic as she tried to fill herself with him, wanting nothing more than the satisfaction of completion. Halting her movements with a grown, Geralt reached around her back and flipped them so she was straddling his hips. Giving her body a moment to settle, Geralt rocked her against his hardened member, her wet folds welcoming him as he slid inside her, his own groan of pleasure echoing between them at the feel of her tight around him.

One hand holding tight to her hip and the other finding the nub of flesh between her thighs, Geralt sat back and watched her ride. Back arched as she moved, Yennefer found a steady rhythm, each rise and fall of her hips taking in as much of Geralt as he could give. 

She purred when he moved the thumb between her legs, the wave of ecstasy that rolled over only enticing Geralt more. As her pace quickened, the bed groaned beneath their frantic movements and his thrusts became harder as he rose up to meet her. Yennefer’s wines of pleasure carried above their gasping breath as her walls contracted around him, Geralt’s own tension beginning to crescendo.

It wasn’t long before Yennefer was bucking on top of him, her nails digging into his shoulders when her orgasm consumed her, body taught as waves of pleasure cascaded through the muscles. Watching her lose herself completely to him released the last taught coil of control and with a finishing thrust, Geralt joined her over the edge. 

As the haze of completion began to settle over both of them, their hearts beating together in frantic rhythm, Yennefer settled herself snuggly on top of Geralt, her head buried against his neck and her lips leaving lazy kisses along his neck. The feel of her skin slick with sweat and her frame still succumbing to tremors of pleaser left Geralt with a satisfied grin, his arm wrapping around her waist and holding her in place, not quite ready to withdraw from her just yet.

Beneath hooded lids, Geralt watched Yennefer stretch after a time, his arm reluctantly releasing her, as she carefully rolled to her spot beside him and flopped onto her stomach, raven locks tossed over her shoulder in a tangled mess and her eyes closed in a moment of sexual contentment.

Make up smudged and lips swollen, he couldn’t remember a time where she’d looked better. Lazily trailing a hand along her back, Geralt smiled as her skin prickled from the contact. “We should do this more often.”

“Not see each other for a long time and then have sex?” She teased the reposed Witcher as he continued to trail nonsensical patterns down her back.

“Got to admit, it was good sex.”

A choked laughter passed her lips, soon replaced by a sound reminiscent of a purr and Yennefer burrowed deeper into her pillows, his amber gaze roaming over her serene features. Their time apart had been allowed to go on too long this time.

The separations were often fueled by arguments and sheer stubbornness on both sides and now, as they laid together in a tangle of sheets and content feelings, he cursed the childishness they refused to set aside. Geralt had a life full of regrets and he didn’t want his relationship with Yennefer to wind up on the list.

As his mind wandered, Yennefer brought her hand up and began to trace alone the hard lines of his face. Even when relaxed, his features showed the tole of witchering had on the body. Her fingers dipped into the hard frown lines that marred his brow and down the length of his cheek where they tangled with the white locks, before tracing along his stubbled jaw that he was known to angle in her direction on an occasion or two. His skin was worn from weather, a stark contrast from the softness of her own, but after all this time, it didn’t seem to bother her.

Whatever lingering tension that still resided melted away at Yennefer’s touch. Geralt had almost forgotten what it was like to bask in the afterglow with someone you respected. Someone you loved. The moment they were in now, with all its laughter and warmth, it’s doe eyed looks and soft caresses, he would commit it to memory.

Gathering her hand in his, Geralt studied the differences for a moment before bringing them to his lips and leaving a lingering kiss against her knuckles. “I’ve missed you, Yen.”

He didn’t miss the way Yennefer’s breath hitched and he could see the telltale prickling of tears forming at the corner of her eyes. The words would be trivial to most, spoken in the aftermath of sex where people tended to say things they think their bed mate would appreciate, but in this instance and with this woman, they were anything but empty words.

Neither of them would deny they’ve had their share of problems, that at times their relationship could be downright hostile, but despite that, Geralt never questioned where Yennefer’s heart lay. The lives that the fates had thrown at each of them were hard ones, ugly ones, ones that made a person hope they simply survived. Though each of them had hoped, in the private of their own hearts, that perhaps they could one day have more, they had never held much stock in those hopes coming to fruition.

And yet, despite the odds, here they were. For all the good and the bad that there was between them, they at least shared a love that stretched the ages.

“I missed you too,” she murmured as she buried her face against his chest, a rouge tear trailing down her cheek.

Geralt wrapped his arms around her, fitting her against him till he could feel her shaking breath on his chest. Resting his lips against the crown of her head, he held on tight and wished that time would stand still.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the submission for A Very Yenralt Valentine Week.
> 
> I had wanted to do more fics for this fandom event but my brain was not on board for that much effort. I got this baby done and I’m pretty pleased with it! I hope you guys enjoy.


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